There’s magic and metaphors in music superior to any other art form. An exquisite alchemy is involved in mixing pieces of your self and soul into the precisely perfect blend of harmonies, melodies, and lyrics that strike a chord.
Sometimes absence doesn’t make the heart grow fonder. Sometimes it just makes the heart hurt.
Our eyes are closed, but even without seeing, they’re only for each other.
I would lose him a thousand lifetimes over if it meant I got the chance to love him a thousand times. And have him love me back.If only for a little while.
I was only able to move forward once I let go of my fear of leaving him behind.
Let me be the type man who plants a field of flowers so you can be the type of woman who picks them.
We live and learn, change and grow. Older, but not always wiser. Stronger but not necessarily smarter. Life is a dance of steps taken forward and backwards, time spent standing still, and twirling in circles as we follow our own shadows.
We kiss with our eyes closed but our senses open, infusing the spaces between with the elements of the other.
We are forever changed, forever united.From almost-us to always us.We kiss with our eyes closed but our senses open, infusing the spaces between with the elements of the other.
We’ve gotten to that stage all soulmates reach of speaking in broken phrases and incomplete sentences, our connected and all-knowing minds filling in the blanks left by redundant words.
Although we try to control it in a million different ways, the only things you can ever really do to time are enjoy it, or waste it. That’s it.
Adequate photographers use their sight, good photographers use their senses, and great photographers use their souls.
There are two types of women. The ones who wait to receive flowers and the ones who go out and pick them.
I will fight death for my right to live until my last breath.
Nobody sees me like you do, and without you, I’ll be invisible. I exist because you see me.